Prophecy Be Damned
by Lucian VanDrayle
Summary: Harry dies, and life goes on. But how would Harry react if he knew that him dying had no real effect? Rated M just in case of future content. - This story is Being BETA'd. Please be patient on any errors that occur.
1. Chapter 1 - Death

" _Accio!_ " Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the TriWizard Cup.

It flew into the air and soared towards him. Harry caught it by the handle-

Just as a flash of green magic struck him between the shoulder blades. As the world around him began to twist and take his body to another place, his soul convulsed as it was being taken to another destination.

White.

Cold.

Not alone, oddly enough. Harry stood on what looked like Kings Cross, and in front of him was Death. He couldn't see past the hood of the cloak, but he could tell by the tone of his voice that Death was very… Annoyed.

"You shouldn't be here." The voice sounded like the whisper of wind through the limbs of the trees.

Harry was scared. Facing the basilisk, facing the dragons, even facing Voldemort himself on that long ago, all felt like nothing compared to standing before this entity. And in the reality hit them, he had died.

"I'm dead." Harry said, feeling a strange coldness creep into his chest.

"Well, not really." Harry's head jerked up, looking at Death.

"What do you mean, not really!?" His voice was borderline frantic, forgetting for a moment that he was talking to Death himself. The Reaper, however, was not fazed by this little outburst.

"You, Harry Potter, are not really dead. You're dead enough to end up here in limbo, but not enough for me to claim you."

Harry blinked, thinking. Did this make in a ghost? Would he be able to go back and warn the others?

"Whatever you're thinking, stop it." Death said, crossing his robed arms in front of him. "Nothing you could do would mean much anyway."

Harry started, looking at Death again. What did he mean?

"Your death was of little consequence, in the long run. Anything you would try to do, try to fix or make better, would've worked itself out anyways."

The young boy was speechless. All of this, coming from the master of death and the afterlife was kind of hard to take.

"What do you mean, it would've worked itself out?" He asked, his voice shaking. The tall robed figure turned and began to walk down the platform. Harry followed.

"Before your untimely end, you were to warn the others that Tom Riddle had returned, join Albus Dumbledore's secret society, lead the resistance against the Wizarding Ministry, and ultimately send Tom Riddle to meet me for one last time."

Harry couldn't keep a small smile off of his face. They would win.

"But now that you're dead, somebody else gets to have all those adventures. Ultimately, you just become another casualty of a war that has even begun."

Harry stopped. It was so sudden that even death ceased his walking, to turn and look at the boy. Harry swallowed, his mouth dry.

"Do you mean to say," Harry's voice was shaking. In anger, fear, or despair no one can really tell. "That I make no impact in what happens?"

The robed figure shrugged. "In the long run, not really. You were The Boy Who Lived, and now you are just another boy who died. Everything will move on, and you will move on as well."

Even though everything looks the same, and Kings Cross seem to go on forever, ahead the air seemed to warp. Harry could feel a tugging in his chest, pulling him towards the air. But then it stopped.

"At least, that was my intention." Death's voice seemed… Agitated. " _Something_ … Is keeping you alive. Not very much alive, but alive enough that I cannot take you on the other side."

Harry looked at the figure again. "So what happens?"

"I'll send you back. A living person in limbo for too long will cause… Complications."

Harry should've felt happy. He should've felt elated, he should've felt something. But all he felt was indifference.

"Well…" Death clapped his bony white hands together. "This is been an interesting little chat. Have fun being immortal."

And with a wave of the hand, Harry felt himself falling.

* * *

Hey ho everyone. Welcome to my little story. Hope you guys enjoy. This little idea came from a conversation me and my girlfriend was having, on "What would happen if?" And it got me thinking... With the way Dumbledore is, Harry dying wouldn't stop the flow of actions. Someone else would probably take up the mantle and fight the good fight.

Well... let's see how that turns out. See you in the next chapter!

\- Lucian V.

[EDIT 7/11/15]

So I'm REALLY sorry for the editing mistakes. I am using a mic to record my words, and sometimes the spelling get's messed up. Hopefully it'll be better in the future. Thanks!

~Onward and Upward~


	2. Chapter 2 - Awakening

Harry opened his eyes, and for a second he thought he was still on Kings Cross limbo. Then he noticed the white curtains around him, and that he was in a hospital bed.

And his body ACHED. He tried to move his arm and found the numbness of it being asleep for far too long was far too unpleasant. He took a breath and felt his chest rise with the same aching numbness.

How long was he out?

There was sudden movement at his side, to red heads and a brunette. His eyes were coming into focus as he recognized Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley. Were they talking? Slowly his hearing began to come back to him.

"-Awake! He's awake! Somebody go get Pomfrey!" Said Mrs. Weasley, as both Ron and Hermione hugged the bedridden boy as if he come back from the dead. Which ironically enough, was pretty close to the truth.

"Mate, are you okay? Are you hungry?"

Hermione gave Ron a sour look. "Of course he's hungry, he's been out for all of three months."

Harry blinked. Three months? It'd only felt like 10 minutes… Soon the school nurse was at his bedside, and behind him was the headmaster. Dumbledore looked at him with a mixture of concern and relief, his hands folded in front of him.

"Harry, how do you feel? Are you all with us?"

The young boy managed to move his hand and run it through his hair. It was longer than he remembered.

"I feel like I've been in a bed for three months. What happened?"

Dumbledore glanced at Pomfrey, who nodded, then turned to the three at his bedside. "Could you leave us alone for a moment?" It felt more like a command and less like a request, but the three of them obeyed and stepped beyond the curtain surrounding the bed. After the nurse had checked his vitals she left as well.

"When you came back with Cedric's body, you are unconscious. To the point of it looking like you were dead. What can you tell me happened?"

Harry gritted his teeth. He literally just came back to life, and now he was getting grilled for answers.

"The trophy was a port-key. It took us to a graveyard somewhere, Peter Pettigrew was there along with a lot of death eaters. And Voldemort."

At the name of the Dark Lord, Dumbledore frowned.

"Harry, are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure I should be dead right now, and you're wanting to ask if I'm sure whether or not the most infamous dark wizard of this or any generation ever heard of was casting _Avada Kedavra_ at me!" Harry was angry. He really didn't want to deal with this, not now not ever. Dumbledore was unfazed, and merely nodded.

"In the interest of your safety," he said walking around the other side of the bed "you've been kept in the hospital quarter of Hogwarts. The new school year will begin soon, and you will be able to resume your classes. However." The headmaster looked at Harry in the eyes.

"I believe it might be best if you do not leave school grounds, for as far as Voldemort is concerned, you are still dead."

Harry blinked at him. He was now a prisoner of Hogwarts. Funny how this place used to hold such freedom to him, now is just as much of the cages the closet was. Dumbledore to carry silence as complacency, and turned to go.

"Dumbledore." He felt that he'd been through enough to not bother adding Sir. "Would it be possible to have my one returned to me? I really would like to be able to hold onto it right now."

The headmaster nodded, smiling in the grandfatherly way he was known for. It made Harry sick. Soon his friends and Mrs. Weasley came back, and for a short time Harry felt normal again. Or at least as normal as coming back to life can make a person.

The next day, Pomfrey came to check on Harry. She pulled back the curtain, and to her horror The Boy That Lived was no longer in his bed. Just a note, with a single line.

 _Gone on vacation. ~H._

Needless to say Dumbledore heard her coming before she even started for his office.

* * *

Sirius Black stepped out of his bedroom at 12 Grimmwauld Place, his morning robe barely tied around his waist. The man tiredly staggered and stumbled towards the kitchen, looking forward to the smell of coffee.

Sirius Black stopped. Why was the smell of coffee already here when he had made it yet? The man pulled out his wand and slowly approached the kitchen. With a shout of surprise, he jumped through the door his wand brandished like a sword.

Imagine his surprise to see his godson sitting on a stool in his kitchen, pouring up a cup of coffee.

"Harry?" He asked, confused and regretting how much he drunk last night. The young boy handed him a cup of hot coffee and let out a sigh.

"Good morning Sirius." He said looking and sounding far more tired than he was. Sirius took the cup, look at it, then look back at Harry.

"You're alive, that's a good thing. I just got word yesterday, I was going to visit later on this afternoon." As Padfoot of course, but he really didn't need to say that. Harry on the other hand, poured himself his own coffee.

"I ran away from the hospital wing. I'd imagine there finding my note right about now." Sirius stared at him. "You… Ran away?"

Harry shrugged. "I prefer to call it a well needed vacation." He looked at his godfather. "I'm sick and tired of being cooped up and told what to do. Do you have any ideas for where we can go to relax?"

Sirius took a deep drink from his coffee. His godson was in a coma for three months, ran away from the hospital, and left a bloody note. Apparently this coma made Harry far more fun than Sirius thought he would be. The animagus pushed a hand through his hair and grinned.

"I have a couple ideas. How do you feel about we catch up on your birthday on the Black Family private island?"

Harry grinned in such a way it looked as if James had come back from the dead. "Will there be alcohol?"

Sirius put an arm around Harry shoulder, and they both walked to the main hallway. "What kind of the party would it be if there wasn't?" He said, and they both laughed.

Meanwhile it Hogwarts… Pandemonium.

* * *

This story is still very much in beta. I'll update and fix what I can when i can. In the mean time, hope you enjoy. - Lucian V.


	3. Chapter 3 - Rebellion

The three days that followed Harry's awakening from his coma, and his abrupt disappearance was sending the teachers of Hogwarts and all of Harry's friends into a nervous craze. Hermione was doing everything in her power to deduce where Harry could have gone, Ron was borderline schizophrenic with his mood swings from depressed to angry, Molly Weasley had to be forcibly removed from the premise due to her anger at the faculty for losing Harry, and McGonagall was visibly shaken and more short tempered than usual. Even Dumbledore's twinkle seem to have left his eye.

So when Harry Potter walked through the front gates of Hogwarts, tan skinned and wearing sunshades, needless to say there was a bit of a… Outburst.

"Harry Potter!" The concerned in angry voice of Minerva McGonagall made the boy that lived twice flinch. He looked ahead where the professor appeared to apparated. "Yes… Miss McGonagall." He said slowly, knowing that he was about to get his ass tore up.

The head of Gryffindor walked up to him, her green eyes sparking. "Where have you been?" Her voice was sharp, saying every word slowly and deliberately. Harry looked up at her, blinking tiredly through the sunglasses.

"I was with my godfather." He said simply. "I'd just woken up from a coma, and I was feeling rather claustrophobic."

This wasn't good enough for McGonagall, but really nothing at that point would've been a good enough excuse. "Everyone here has been beside themselves–"

"I left a note."

"You suddenly leave without supervision-"

"I was with an adult."

"It is far too dangerous for you to-"

"With all due respect professor…" Harry interrupted for a third time, this time getting McGonagall to pay attention "I think I have class right now, and I've had a rather exhausting three days. Blackjack, hookers, and fire whiskey has a tendency to cause headaches."

Prof. McGonagall stared at him, her mouth open. Harry took this moment to continue onwards to the school. The three-day party did involve those three things, however Harry didn't partake in any of them. But McGonagall didn't know that.

Harry strolled in the potions class, ignoring the look of shock and in some cases disappointment from his other classmates. He took an empty desk and sat down, rubbing his temples and still wearing the sunglasses. Snape gave the boy a disapproving sneer.

"Decide to join us after your act of gallivanting, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked at state tiredly, taking off the glasses and squinting at him.

"Yes Prof. Snape, I've decided to grace you with my illustrious presence."

Snape gave a slight smirk. "Your sarcasm will only disservice you. 10 points from Gryffindor."

Draco Malfoy, who happened to be in the classroom at the time, snickered. Harry was not amused.

"What's your problem with me, Snape?"

There was an audible snap, as every student in the room suddenly locked onto Harry Potter, looking at him as if he just said Voldemort with gay. Even Snape seems slightly taken aback.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?"

"I said, what is your problem with me? You had it out for me ever since I started your class, and the only reason I've seen so far is that you're a hateful, spiteful, shortsighted bully."

The gasp that emanated from the room was nearly enough to drain it of oxygen. Snape's face pulled tight in anger.

"10 points from Gryffindor."

"See that, right there? That's what I mean. I died, and your treating me like I took a piss on your shoe."

"20 points from Gryffindor."

"I mean, what happened to you? Did a girl blow you off as a kid?"

"50 points from Gryffindor!" Snape was visibly shaking in rage. Harry looked at him, then had a thought.

"Oh… Darn… I just remembered, I don't have this class right now. Bye!"

And with that Harry strolled out of potions class, leaving a classroom of dumbstruck students and one very angry professor.

* * *

Ron and Hermione both entered the gryffindor common room, warily looking around for their friend. According to Dumbledore McGonagall, Harry hadn't been acting normal since he returned from his 'vacation'. So they asked the two if they would talk to Harry.

They found Harry sitting on a couch. Although setting wasn't the proper term. Harry was on his back, his legs hanging off the top part of the couch, effectively upside down, and reading a magazine.

"Harry," Hermione started, been doing when she saw what he was reading. "What… Are you reading?"

"The September issue of PlayWizard." Harry said with a shrug. Hermione bristled, and indignant look on her face as Ron sputtered out "Where did you get that?"

"Sirius gave it to me. He said he was done with it. Want to read when I'm finished?"

For Ron shout 'yes' or nod emphatically, Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, her face still irate.

"Harry, Dumbledore is worried about you." She ignored Harry scoff and went on "he said you've been acting strange sense your coma and you need to be a little more considerate."

Harry gave an exasperated sigh and looked at them upside down, not moving from the couch. "Why do I, the person who for all intents and purposes was killed, need to be the one considerate?"

While Hermione didn't have much of a rebuttal to this, she wasn't going to let that be the last word. "Harry if you don't start taking this a little more seriously, your grades are going to drop."

Harry gave her an irritated scowl. "Hermione… Right now, the last thing I really care about is my grades."

This little statement was enough to send Hermione into a silent rage that had her leaving the common room and a huff. Ron looked torn, looking back and forth between the retreating girl and is now a devil-may-care best friend. Harry went back to reading his magazine.

"… You know one of the girls in here is in a Quidditch outfit?"

Ron soon joined Harry on the couch.

* * *

Hey hey everyone! Another Chapter, another step towards... Well I'm not entirely sure. World Domination I guess. :P But really, thanks for reading, thank everyone who fav'd and followed, I love you guys, I really didn't think anyone would read this story at all. So... I hope you guys enjoy.

Also, to address something NerdyOS said in a review: I don't plan on this story being gigantic. I don't want to fill my chapters with extra words simply to make more people read the story. Filler is bad. Filler is always bad unless you're stuffing a turkey. So I'm gonna stick with my shorter chapters and put out a story that's fun to read. If I end up with a huge 5000 word chapter, so much the better, it means that chapter had more stuff in it. But if not... Well, James Patterson had chapters only a couple of paragraphs long, and he made a multi book series on it.

Anyhow, love you guys, thanks for reading! Lucian V.

~Onward and Upward~


End file.
